The Enigma of Uncle Mort
by AlexisJames92
Summary: Dark!Slytherin!Smart!Harry Manipulative!Evil!Dumbledore "Dark doesn't mean Evil" In a world where the Knights of Walpurgis are fighting for equality for all creatures against the oppressive Light. Dumbedore's plotting leaves Hadrian orphaned and in Fostercare until Hadrian finds a home in the wizarding world, and a family in the most unlikely of places. Good!Tom
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! My first Harry Potter fic, everybody! If any of you have any ideas or comments or requests, don't be afraid to review! Infact, even if you have nothing to say at all: Review PLease! Even if its just to say something stupid like...Water Buffalo...**

 **May the gods be ever in your favor!**

 **-James**

He was aware; he had always been. Nearly from the moment he was born. Perhaps it was because Magic and Fate both sought to help the child, who had so heavy a burden to bear in life. His keen awareness gave him advantage; however, it came at a painful price: He was aware, and he understood.

He understood what was happening when his mother, beautiful with fire-red locks and leaf green eyes, sobbed in his father's arms. He understood when their friend—a tall, pale, mysterious man—informed them that someone named Regulus had died, and had felt pity when Uncle Padfoot had collapsed on the floor, eyes wide and his normally rosy complexion pale. He'd listened intently when Mooney had whispered about rumors of a conspiracy. He'd been awake and aware when the old manipulator had visited his parents, and had noticed how fake the man's concerned gaze was.

"….prophecy…Harry…Dark Lord approaches…must be hidden…spy…" not much could be heard through the closed door of Hadrian's nursery. Hadrian pulled himself up, onto his small feet, his chubby hands hanging onto the side bars of his crib. His shaggy hair hung over his round face, partially obscuring his eyes from view; his huge, round and intelligent Avada green eyes that swept across the room suspiciously. Someone was watching him. Someone he couldn't see.

Coming to a decision, Hadrian took a breath and began to wail, as infants his age tend to do when left alone for long periods of time. He continued his shrieking as he sat himself back down on his mattress and laid down, just as the door opened. His mother, Lily, gazed down at him with an affectionate look. Though there was weariness and concern in her expressive eyes.

"There, there" she cooed the way mothers do. "Nothing's wrong…" Hadrian almost snorted, but held it in. He understood enough to know that infants his age typically didn't express themselves in this manner. So, instead, he quieted and playfully gurgled, snagging a strand of his mother's hair. "Oh, were you just lonely?" she asked him, stroking one of his rounds cheeks with a finger. Two more figures appeared in the doorway.

"I'm afraid I need your answer tonight, Mrs. Potter" the old man said. James Potter stood next to him, but soon inched closer to his wife. His wild, messy back hair was mirrored on his son's head; though his eyes were small and brown, his nose a bit too round and his chin too wide for the son to bear much resemblance to his father.

"James?" Lily asked quietly. The man chewed his bottom lip.

"Maybe," Hadrian watched as his father took a steading breath. "Maybe it would be best."

"Only if you come with us," Lily said, her voice still low but nonetheless resolute. "Hadrian needs both of his parents." James gave his wife a playful smile, though it was a failed copy of his usual, carefree grin.

"Well," he said. "If something happens to me I'm sure Padfoot or Severus would be happy to play house with you." Lily didn't smile back. James' smile wavered. "I'm not even half joking, Lils, I'm needed with the rest of the Aurors, the public is going crazy. I can't just run away…"

"And yet, you expect me to?"

"If I may" Dumbledore said, stepping closer. He attempted to ruffle Hadrian's hair, but Hadrian only scowled, screaming loudly in protest. Dumbledore withdrew his hand. "James my boy, your family needs you. So very many things could go wrong, after all. I would rest easier to know you were nearby, to protect them."

James thoughtfully stared at his son, before slowly and wordlessly nodding. Dumbledore clapped his hands together, a strange gleam in his eyes that neither of the older Potters seemed to see. "Excellent. I've several safe houses prepared, the Fidelios Charm just needs a few more hours to be set." James only nodded. Lily made no acknowledgement that she heard.

A loud _Crack_ and the man was gone. Out of the shadows stepped a man with long raven hair, beetle black eyes and a sallow complexion. Dark bags hung under his eyes. "Severus," Lily said, relief in her voice. "Anything?"

"Don't trust him, Lily. Never for a second," Severus Snape said as he began to pace back and forth across the nursery floor. "Tom has no intention of harming a hair on your son's head. You know how he feels about the _art_ of Divination. Particularly if its Sybil Trelawney that gave the prophecy."

James snorted in amusement at his one-time rival's words. "Here, here. Always knew that Riddle was a smart man." Severus nodded, a touch of a smile gracing his face for a moment before it was gone.

The adults continued speaking about the war, about the raids and battles that had been won and lost. James expressed his regret about their neutral stance, though Severus was quick to reassure him. "You have Lily to take care of, Potter. Being involved in the war more than you are as an Auror would be, simply put, irresponsibly stupid and selfish of you. Now that you have a son, that only strengthens your reasons for staying out of the war. Even Lucius Malfoy is feigning neutrality now that young Draco has been born and Narcissa is dead." James went to say something else, but a sharp hand gesture from Snape cut him off. "And if anything happens to either Lily _or_ Hadrian, be certain that your death shall be slow, painful, and by _my_ wand."

Despite the death threat, all three Potters smiled.

It would be the last (relatively) peaceful moment Hadrian would ever get with his parents.

His life went to hell with the kidnapping of Bellatrix Lestrange. "What is _she_ doing here?" James demanded, seeing the still, unconscious form of the woman, recognizing her as one of Severus' closest friends.

"This," said Dumbledore as a few of his beloved Order members lugged the woman down the steps of the Potter's safe house to the basement "is one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers, one that my sources say the Dark Lord places much value in. He would stop at nothing to get her back, but I have plans to interrogate her. Unfortunately, all available people are needed, as there is an attack on Hogsmeade as we speak."

"So you're just leaving that murderess here with my wife and son in the house?" James asked, his face white with fury.

"They are perfectly safe, I assure you. She's under the Drought of Sleeping Death, and she won't awaken until she is given the antidote. Furthermore, because of the Charms on the house, Voldemort cannot get to her."

James spat out "Fine" before turning on his heel and marching angrily up the stairs. He never noticed Dumbledore pocketing a silvery cloak that he had hung over the back of his couch.

To say the Dark Lord was furious, would be an understatement. He was livid. Bella, his loyal Bella, had been kidnapped by the Order. Tom sank down onto his throne, head in his hands. No doubt she was already dead.

Bella…his loyal, crazy, mothering, happy-all-the-time Bella…

His doors flew open. Tom jerked up, on his feet and his wand at the ready within the space of a heartbeat. The tension left him completely as he realized it was just Severus, then he noticed Severus' slightly panicked expression.

"My Lord," Severus dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort. "Bellatrix, she"

"I know" cut off the Dark Lord, but Severus continued, interrupting what Tom was about to say. Which was surprising to him, to say the least.

"She's in Godric Hollow! Held in the Potter's basement! She's under Sleeping Death, but Lily is already preparing the antidote." Voldemort stood up. He was on friendly terms with the Potters, since many of his Inner Circle—Severus, Sirius, Remus, Fenrir, Lucius and Rudolphus to name a few—were close friends with them. And so, Severus—who was the Potter's Secret Keeper—had entrusted Tom with the location of his best friend and her husband.

"Bring the Lestranges, then go to Hogwarts. We can't have Dumbledore suspecting you. Does he still believe Pettigrew to be Secret Keeper?" A nod from Snape. They had performed a faulty ritual with Dumbledore's pet rat, making the old fool and Pettigrew alike, believe that he was the Keeper, to prevent suspicion from falling on one of the Dark Lord's people. Severus bowed again to Tom.

"As you wish," a pause and then "Please be careful, my Lord." Tom smiled at him, and nodded. As Severus left the room, Pettigrew slipped in to bow, prostrate at his "master's" feet.

Dumbledore waited outside Godric Hallow, hidden in the folds of his stolen invisibility cloak. As expected, Peter had successfully "betrayed" the Potters and given the name of the safe house to the Dark Lord. Tom Riddle himself, along with the two Lestrange men, had just appeared and were approaching the house.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the tall, handsome figure in the middle pushing as much power as he could into a simple compulsion spell. Tom paused, his two companions took several more steps before realizing their leader had stopped. Then Voldemort took off in a run towards the house. Before Rabastan and Rudolphus could follow suit, two Stupefys send their way left them sprawled on the ground. A piercing scream split the night. Dumbledore smiled before Disapparating.

 **a/n Also check out my Solangelo-Harry-Potter-Crossover fic "Eleven-Teen Again"**


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly, I'd love to thank all the lovely peoples who reviewed. It makes me happyz. XD Also, I'd like to say that I'd welcome any and all input, suggestions and comments….just don't expect me to try an incorporate all of them. Furthermore, I am not extremely familiar (read: obsessed) with the Harry Potter Books like some people on here, and so there will be some errors…like misspelling of spells or getting something about the Ministry of Magic's various departments wrong…just things like that. Feel free to correct me on anything. Also, this is currently a Drarry story that will have some Ron Bashing…..Iz hate that guy….If anyone wants a different "Ship" than feel free to leave some comments. Also, there will be some Severus/Lucius. I'm not sure about having Tom-Voldemort in a relationship, though I am not opposed to it. Any ideas?**

 **And Secondly, what should Hadrian's familiar (and dementor and patronus and animagi form) be? I'm very much leaning towards snake, though I'm not sure what kind…or maybe a dragon or some kind of….TURTLE!**

 **Warning for this chapt: some mentions of Child Abuse/Rape/Neglect. So if you are a tad touchy about these things…idk just gloss over it I guess.**

 **LOVE YOU ALL! I'M NOT CREEPY!**

 **(Or J.K. Rowling so I own none of this)**

 **May the gods be ever in your favor!**

 **-James**

***1047***

Hadrian watched dully as rain slapped the outside of his foggy window. It was cold. _He_ was cold, despite being indoors. The Mounts didn't bother heating his room. "Waste of money" they'd said. He shivered, drawing his small form closer to himself. His fingers and toes were the coldest part of him. It felt like his bones had turned to ice.

His entire body was trembling. He couldn't make himself stop, no matter how hard he tried. It scared him. He was having trouble breathing, like something was stuck on the inside of his lungs…or maybe like he was trying to breathe in molasses. He coughed wetly, feeling something inside his windpipe rattle. It was a painful sort of cold that he found himself engulfed in. Like he was being torn apart by tiny needles from the inside out.

And he was hungry. It ached. Hadrian would have sworn his stomach acid was burning a hole through his small body. But he didn't dare make a sound. The Mounts were just on the other side of his locked door, in the kitchen having dinner. If they heard him saying anything, he wouldn't get food tomorrow either. They firmly believed that "bad boys" didn't deserve things like toys, or being allowed out of their rooms…much less food.

He swallowed thickly before trying to take a deep breath. It seemed like each time he did so…it got harder. Hadrian dully wondered what would happen if he just stopped trying to breathe. It took so much work to keep doing it…it surly wouldn't be that hard to just…stop?

Another cough shook him violently, droplets of red drippled down his chin. Hadrian simply wiped it away. Then he caught sight of the blood that was on the back of his hand. Unbidden, scenes from his past whipped through his mind…he whimpered quietly.

- _flashback-_

Another scream tore out of him as the belt gave a sharp _crack_. The metal end dug into his back before getting ripped away, taking a chunk of skin with it. Blood was splattered over the walls. His throat was raw, his eyes stung, his back…his back…Hadrian gave a sob… _gods_ his back…

"freak…don't worry this'll…this'll fix ya…" gave the slurred voice of his new 'father'. His seven-year-old hands pulled at his messy hair as he cried his heart out, begging the man to stop.

-flashback end-

More and more memories swirled around his brain, trapping him in his personal hell, surrounded by demons of his past.

"Monster"

"Worthless"

"Brat"

"Whata waste of space"

"Don't know why I bothered"

"You owe EVERYTHING TO ME, and This is how you repay me?"

"I'm sorry…but I just can't handle this…handle you"

"Hadrian, you have to go."

"Pack your things"

"You're leaving in the morning"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FREAK!"

"….exorcism didn't work. Priest says he's a lost cause…"

"Call his social worker"

"Just can't be good, can you"

"So quiet"

"Why don't you talk?"

"SHUT UP, piece of—"

"Must be stupid"

"…so tight…"

Hadrian pounded his head into the wall, trying to make the images stop. Stop. STOP! Hadrian screamed, banging his head with more force. His breathing deepened painfully, his lungs rattling in his chest. He let out of series of hacking coughs.

-flashback-

Hadrian pulled at the handcuffs that held him to the bed. He had to get out. He had to get free.

He had to

He had to

He had to

He couldn't go through it again

God don't let it happen again.

His body was still on fire from last time. He felt dirty. He felt wrong. He wanted to run.

Just run and never look back.

He had to

He had to

He was done

With a cry he pulled with all his might, the metal digging into his skin. A loud sound startled him and he cried out. And then, amazingly…he was on the roof. How was he on the roof? Hadrian heard the man call out, angry. With a gasp, Hadrian hid in a sheltered corner.

"HADRIAN"

-end flashback-

The memories were getting faster. The worst moments of his life in High Definition and Surround Sound set on fast forward and yet he wasn't missing a detail. And worst yet…he could feel each blow…every bit of pain like it was happening all over again.

God make it stop.

He saw himself getting beat, getting starved. Being locked up. Being thrown in cages. Being neglected. Forced to shovel snow in the dead of winter without a coat. Waking up from night terrors to only be greeted by a smack in the face and told to shut the hell up. He was getting abandoned. Being given back to his Social Worker. Being told he'd never find a family. Getting…. ** _played with_** …by various adults that had come and gone…who had only wanted…

Nervous, anxious energy coursed through him. He wanted to cry, scream, hit a wall, tear out his hair, call for a mother who was long dead, run away and never look back, curl up into a ball and never move again, throw a tantrum, beg for mercy. Stop. Stop. Just make it stop…

He wanted to be _done_.

Someone pounded harshly on his door. "Quiet down in there!" Mr. Mount shouted at him. "Jesus Christ, tell me Debra, why on earth did we think we could manage a freak like that?" he said a tad quieter to his wife.

Hadrian choked back his tears, and dug his left hand fingernails into his right forearm, raking them up and down his hardened skin. His entire arm was covered in mottled scar-tissue…more so than the rest of his body…which was saying something. The only difference, was that _he_ had done it. No one else. And he took some sick pride in this.

The familiar feel of pain calmed him. His eyes closed, and he slept.

***1047***

His knights gathered around him. His faithful followers. The Knights of Walpurgis. If only this was a cheerful gathering.

Voldemort stirred with in Lucius Malfoy's body. Ever since that fateful night at the Potters, he'd been forced to live like this. He was bound to the earthly plane because of the soul magic he'd performed on himself, however he was without a body. And so he "borrowed" other people's. With permission of course…usually.

Voldemort took control and cleared his/Lucius' throat. In front of him, were the members of his Inner Circle: Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Rabastan Lestrange, Rudolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, Theodore Nott Sr., Mulciber and Parkinson. For months now, they'd been working on a deal with the Wizengamot on starting a primary school for Muggle-borns. Of course, Dumbledore had made them look bad once more, saying it was just a way for them to brainwash the Muggle-borns. To take away their culture. To steal them from their parents.

Voldemort wanted to tear his/Lucius' hair out! (The soul of the possessed blond quietly asked him not to). Firstly, of COURSE he wanted to "brainwash" them. Get silly ideas out of their heads before it became a problem. Like wanting to free house elves, or their notion that werewolves were evil or that Vampires wouldn't die in the sun…they just sparkled.

Sparkled.

Yes, sparkled.

Voldemort would love to find whoever started to spread that rumor and _crucio_ them until they went deaf by their own screams of pain. Sparkly vampires. Hmph.

He began to issue orders, they would hold off on the primary school for now. Perhaps they would be more open to the idea of an orphanage. In addition, he wanted more pressure for the Werewolf Equality acts to be passed. Poor Lupin wanted a job. Sure, he was more than comfortable at the Malfoy's Manor…but he didn't like feeling as though he were a charity case.

Of course, Dumbledore kept pulling up werewolf cases, pointing out dangerous they could be when not controlled. Of course he'd say it all with that blasted twinkle in his eyes and grandfatherly smile on his lips. All the while throwing around words like "Death Eaters" and "plotting" to make it seem as though they wanted to use the werewolves for "nefarious purposes".

It had always been like this. Tom would try something and Dumbledore would be there to try and thwart him. When he was a boy, studying soul magic, dark magic, black magic, blood magic. When he looked into supposed "dark" creatures and their cultures. When he tried to study where squibs and muggleborns came from. Then later, firing him from his position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, after he'd been there two years, while only giving a half-excuse of Tom not having enough experience.

Not enough experience? NOT ENOUGH EXPERIENCE?! It had been decades and still the thought of it made Voldemort seethe. He's already been teaching for two years dammit. Sure he was only nineteen but…but…NOT ENOUGH EXPERIENCE? HE WAS LORD VOLDEMORT! OF COURSE HE HAD ENOUGH EXPERIENCE!

Ironically, it was Dumbledore who had given Tom that name. As a boy, in first year, Abraxas Malfoy had caught him talking to his familiar Nagini (who had just been a new hatchling then). They'd told him that he was no doubt a descendant of Salazar himself. And they began to jokingly call him "Lord Slytherin" when in the dorms, giving him little bows, kissing his robe and pretending to fear him. Tom had rolled his eyes each time, but had smiled. So they kept doing it, until one of them slipped and did it in the great hall. They'd all froze. Tom had risked a glance up towards the Head Table, and seen Dumbledore seething. Tom had smiled and waved an imperious hand at his "follower", telling him that if he didn't want to be _Crucioed_ to get out of his sight. All of his fellow Slytherins had grinned and bowed, stumbling over themselves to apologize and praise him, thanking their "lord" for being merciful.

Of course, then they just had to do it in public as often as they could. Just to annoy Dumbledore. Years past and Abraxas had discovered that when Tom's full name was rearranged, it spelled Vol De Mort. French for either "Theft of Death" or "Flight of Death". Obviously, a thirteen year old boy thought this was hilarious, and immediately declared it to be fate.

They took to calling him either Voldemort or Lord Slytherin constantly. Later, when Tom had graduated and began to explore the various lost branches of magic, Dumbledore declared him a threat. Calling him a self-proclaimed "dark Lord" (though Tom had never said any such thing), Lord Voldemort. His followers, the Knights of Walpurgis had though this funny, and had adopted this title for their "master".

In all actuality though, the KoW had started out as a glorified study club when Tom was in Hogwarts. It was just him and his friend, determined to bring back the lost arts of magic, as well as things like male pregnancy or soul bonding or soul mate-finding or elemental abilities, wandless magic and so on. It grew as more people gained interest, and soon Tom began to teach his "followers" his findings. Then he send them on missions (after they had graduated) to go find relics to help aid them in their great and noble quest.

Soon, they had discovered the horrible attitude towards Creatures, and had made that part of their "quest" as well. They were attacked at every turn. But, ironically, it was Dumbledore who struck the first bloody blow.

He'd attacked Malfoy Manor. He killed Tom's best friend. His childhood confidant. His blood-bonded brother, Abraxas. As well as Abraxas' wife and unborn child, leaving his young son Lucius without a family. Of course, Tom took in the boy, raising him as his own…but even still, Dumbledore had crossed a line.

Tom honestly hadn't cared that Dumbledore had used the media to snub him. He didn't care when he was publicly insulted. Dumbledore's attempts to sway the Ministry away from Tom had been annoying but expected. But this…this…

The Riddle, Slytherin and Malfoy's officially announced a blood feud with Dumbledore. Dumbledore had taken it to the media, who called it a war between Light and Dark, making it seem as though Tom's battle was with the public.

Tom grit his teeth, before a gentle voice brought his mind back to the present. "My lord?" asked Severus.

Tom shook his/Lucius' head. "Severus?"

"You asked me to bring in the new Defense teacher?" Tom thought back, then nodded.

"Yes. I have a mission for him. He is, after all, one of ours." Severus bowed, then left to find one Professor Quirrell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello All! Welcome to day three of "SO YOU THINK YOU CAN WRITE!" Lol, anyway please review, I would love to hear what you all think. Also, Hadrian(Harry) is going to be majorly OOC from what he was in the books, this is because I believe who you are comes from the life you've lived and the people who have surrounded you. If you haven't picked up on it yet, Hadrian is a Foster Kid. And, yes, I know that there are a lot of really nice Foster families out there…but**

 **Speaking from experience…**

 **There's more bad than good. So keep in mind that this is what** ** _I_** **think Hadrian would have been like had he lived the kind of life I (sort of) illustrated in chapt 2. Feel free to leave your own ideas in the comments. Also, what kind of familiar do you want Hadrian to have? Anything you want to see in future chapters of the story?**

 **May the gods be ever in your favor!**

 **-James**

Hadrian idly jumped up and down on his bed, knowing that each time he did so, it bangs noisily against the floor. And knowing that his new "mother" was taking a nap in the bedroom directly beneath his.

 _Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud_

Something about the rhythmic beat soothed Hadrian, making him grin. Sure, this place wasn't as bad as most. He got fed at least twice a day. He was given a nice place to sleep. He wasn't locked in his room. But he was hardly allowed out of the house at all. He wasn't allowed anywhere without one of his new parents hanging over his shoulder. Hadrian supposed all in all, it was nice enough. But there was something about his "parents" that made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was how they were always talking about how going to church would "fix him" and "Clean him up". Or maybe it was them dragging him to church three times a week: twice on Sunday and once in the middle of the week. Maybe it was how they made him hold their hands as they talked to themselves before each meal. It reminded Hadrian too much of the family that had taken him to get "fixed" by the priest. Hadrian frowned deeply, remembering.

Besides, they didn't need to watch him constantly. He was eleven now for heaven's sake. He could take care of himself. He stopped jumping, landing on his rear with a bounce. The warmth of mid summed floated through his window, caressing his skin. Hadrian sighed and laid back. He heard the front door open, a man's voice called out a greeting as heavy foot falls stomped down the hall towards him. His door open and a bald head with a shaggy beard poked in.

"Hey Harry," Hadrian scowled at the ceiling. He hated that nickname. "Mailman drove up just as I was coming in. Mind grabbin' it while I wake up your mum?" Hadrian shook his head, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he slid onto the floor. "Be quick about it" the man reminded him. Hadrian rolled his eyes as he slid his sock-clad feet into his worn sneakers. As the man, Hadrian didn't bother trying to remember his name, left the room, the door closed and Hadrian caught his reflection in the mirror that hung on the back.

A scrawny boy, much too small for eleven, stared back at him with haunted eyes that gleamed brightly, strangely. Thick, straight, wispy hair flew about his head. The black strands reached down to his chin. His skin was pale, except for the scars that were scattered across his skin. There wasn't much on his face, which Hadrian supposed he should be glad for. Only one, was a thin, ragged scar on his forehead, the shape of lightning. Hadrian would have thought it was cool, if there hadn't been a better one on his leg. It was from an old burn, and it actually looked like fire. At least it did before it started fading. On his neck was old, yellow and green bruising, vaguely in the shape of a man's hands. His long sleeved, baggy shirt, and faded pair of cargo pants hid the rest of the scars and bruises from view.

Hadrian only spared a glance at himself in the mirror, before opening the door and walking down the hall. It was early July, beautiful out. A gentle wind was blowing, swaying the trees in the yard in the flowers in the small garden. Hadrian breathed in deeply, relishing the feeling of the outdoors. He stretched, reaching his arms up as far as they could go. He walked down the sidewalk, as slowly as possible. He opened the mailbox, reaching inside as he saw several envelopes.

He turned back to the house, not even walking yet as he started to shuffle through them. Then he paused, his heart stopping in his chest. Never, never once in all his years…had he ever received a letter. But it was his, without a doubt.

Mr. H. Potter.

The Smallest Bedroom.

84 Iolaire Road

Manchestar, England

There was no stamp, which Struck Hadrian as odd. Also, there was a wax seal on it. And the paper was thicker than what Hadrian was used to, also slightly yellow. Like it was old, except it was obviously new. Hadrian shrugged and began to walk back to his house, before he paused and shoved the letter into his sleeve. He opened the door and strolled in, tossing the other mail onto the table.

He was almost to his bedroom when he heard voices on the other side of the Master Bedroom door. He paused, and listened. "…swear, Phil. He's such a strange child."

"He seems so sweet half the time."

"Well…yeah, but it's the other half of the time I'm worried about."

"You saying we can't handle him?"

"I don't know, Phil. I just don't know. Its not that he's out of control, it's just the way he looks at me! Those eyes, they've got such an old soul behind them. When I said I wanted to take in a child, I meant a _child_. Not a fifty-year-old in a boy's body. I don't know if this'll work out."

"We have to try; we've already taken him."

Hadrian felt his shoulders slump. He'd known, always known, that nowhere he went would he stay there long. The longest he'd been anywhere was a couple of months. Even still, every time there was a small part of him that hoped…that just _maybe_ …Hadrian gritted his teeth, no. He had to stop doing this. No one wanted him. That was that.

"It'll be fine. We'll just call his Worker in the morning."

"Fine. How'll we break the news to him."

"Oh, he isn't happy here, Phil! Just tell him. He won't mind, trust me."

Hadrian numbly walked to his bedroom, closing the door quietly. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. He held his breath, counting to ten. He was fine, this had happened so many times before that he shouldn't even feel anything at this point. Hadrian pulled the letter out, after carefully locking his door.

He studied the wax crest more carefully now that he was alone. A shield, split into four sections, each with a different animal: A lion, an eagle, a weird rodent thing, and a snake. They all surrounded a fancy letter H.

He popped it open with a thumbnail and slid out the letter inside. He sat down on his bed and unfolded the paper.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts

School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all

necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

This made Hadrian pause. 'Owl'? he wondered. 'Wizardry'? He looked down at his hands, so that was why…He beamed, so that was why! All his life, he'd been weird. Different. All because he could do things. Like the time he'd accidentally teleported when he'd been running away from someone. Or the time he'd miraculously found his broken leg perfectly healed the very next day. Or how, once, when he'd been locked in a closet for days on end without anything to eat, food had appeared out of nowhere. It was magic.

And not just that, but he wasn't a freak. He was just special! There were others like him! A whole SCHOOL for people like him. He had to go, he just had to! Only...

Walking over to his small desk area, he pulled out a pen and paper.

"To Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.

I would very much like to attend this year, however I have no money to pay for tuition, nor do I know where to shop for my needed items. If you could send some instructions, should you still allow me to attend school. If, perhaps, you can provide some used school materials, that would be welcome. If not, than thank you for your time anyway.

Signed

Hadrian Potter"

Hadrian looked at his letter for a moment, then shrugged. He opened his window, then climbed out. He knew that owls nested in a tree across a few yards, so he simply walked across the way, stopping at an old, empty house. In the back, amid the overgrown shrubbery and dead flower bushes, was a short, stumpy, hollow tree.

Hadrian hesitated a moment. Maybe "owl" stood for something else. Like a code. And, also, he felt bad for waking the poor things up in the middle of the day. Then he sighed, unsure of what to do, and knocked on the side of the hollow tree. To his amusement, a small brown head peeked out—looking strangely disgruntled and ruffled from sleep—and hooted at him.

"I'm sorry to wake you up," said Hadrian. "I just wanted to know if you could deliver a letter for me? Needs to go to someone named Minerva McGonagall. She works somewhere called Hogwarts." The owl seemed to think about this for a moment, before hopping out to alight on the top of the tree. It held out his foot. Hadrian handed the letter to it, and the owl took off, the letter clutched in one claw.

Hadrian looked after it, gob smacked. Then he started giggling.

***1047***

Minerva McGonagall was surprised to see an owl, peering at her from her headrest. She sat up in her bed, turning to peer right back at it. It wasn't a school owl. It was a Little Owl. Not a type typically used to deliver letters, they were too unpredictable and hard to train. It's wide yellow eyes looked at her, hair-like feathers covered its long legs down to its sharp talons. It's brown and black, white-spotted wings fluttered irritated.

It was then that she noticed that the owl didn't have the letter attached to its leg, it was holding it. Minerva frowned. It could only mean two things: one, it's owner was lazy. Two, it was a wild own who randomly decided to help a wizard. Minerva slowly reached out for it, you could never be too careful with wild owls.

However, it relinquished the letter happily. But it didn't fly away. "Shoo" said Minerva, waving an arm at it.

"Dooooo!" it hooted at her. Minerva frowned.

"Shoo!"

"Dooo!"

"Shoo, you stupid owl. There's nothing more for you to do!"

"Doooooooooo!"

Minerva frowned, getting up. The owl watched her curiously as she rummaged in one of her drawers. Aha, here it is. Hagrid, the grounds keeper, had given her a bag of jerky (made from Merlin-knows-what) for her birthday. She hadn't touched it. Now, she pulled out a small piece and offered it to the owl.

"There, take it and go."

The owl considered the food for a second, before snatching it up and flying out the window. Minerva sighed, wondering who the letter was from. It was written on Muggle paper, there was no envelope. Minerva's frown deepened as she unfolded the letter.

"To Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.

I would very much like to attend this year, however I have to money to pay for tuition, nor do I know where to shop for my needed items. If you could send some instructions, should you still allow me to attend school. If, perhaps, you can provide some used school materials, that would be welcome. If not, then thank you for your time anyway.

Signed

Hadrian Potter"

The short, but polite letter struck Minerva as odd. Hadrian Potter…Hadrian…Harry! Minerva gasped. Harry Potter had written the letter. She mentally smacked herself for not recognizing the name sooner. Merlin's beard every child knew the boy's name. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Minerva couldn't believe she had forgotten all about him! She needed to find someone to escort him through Diagon Ally. Normally, she herself would take care of him, but she had already prearranged to help guide several muggle-borns.

Her gaze fell on the jerky bag. Hagrid. Hagrid loved Lily and James. Minerva was about to pen back a response, when her gaze fell on something sitting on the back of a nearby chair.

"Dooo. Do do do do Doo"

"Gah!"

***1047***

 **a/n I've seen Little Owls before, and they** ** _do_** **make this weird Dooo sound. Just so ya know. xD**

***1047***

Hadrian was sitting at the breakfast table with the two adults, whose names he thought might have been Lori and Phil, when the man cleared his throat.

"Say, Hadrian, are you happy here?"

Hadrian was surprised. No one had ever asked him that before. He put his toast down, seriously considering the question. "Well" he said slowly. "I am not _un_ happy here. You are far nicer than most people. I have food. It's warm." Hadrian was silent for a beat. "I suppose I am. Why?"

He looked up to find the two adults looking as surprised as he felt. Lori looked down at her plate, her husband was frowning at her. "I suppose, I wanted to say I'm sorry." Hadrian's stomach lurched. Gods, why can't they just say it normally? A simple 'We don't want you. Get out' would have been far easier to take than all of this nonsense. Hadrian forced himself to take another bite of his toast, before he realized that Phil was waiting for an answer.

"That's okay. I know I'm not worth your time," Hadrian knew he was milking it, but he wanted them to feel at least a _little_ guilty for doing this. "You've already called my Social Worker, haven't you? If you didn't want me, you just had to say so. No one ever has, so it's nothing new."

With that, Hadrian left the table, walking as normally and as calmly as he could. He wanted to slam his door, but he didn't. Instead, he closed it quietly.

"Doo?" Questioned a voice from behind him.

"I'm fine, it's just WHAT THE!" The owl had come back. Hadrian grinned, all of his previous negative emotions vanishing. He'd learned before that holding onto them would just make things worse. It was better if he didn't let it affect him, all he'd needed was a distraction. The Little Owl held out it's leg proudly. Hadrian saw that a small scroll was tied to its leg. Hadrian stroked the owl's feathers before taking the scroll from him.

"I'll just get you some breakfast," Hadrian told it. "Wait here." Hadrian snuck back out towards the kitchen. Phil and Lori were talking in low tones.

"…thought you said he didn't like it here!"

"I thought he didn't!"

"Did you hear what he said? The poor kid, I wonder what kind of homes he'd had before. _Probably_ homes that didn't WANT HIM!" Phil sounded angry. "I agreed to take in the kid, Lori. You know I've always wanted kids. Here we have a sweet little boy, who's a little shy, a little ornery, a little too smart and who has a bad past. Can you blame him for not trusting us? Especially since he _really_ had no reason to! Here we were, planning to get rid of him, just coz he's a little weird."

"I'm sorry! I'll call Margaret, tell her we changed our minds."

Hadrian was stunned. They were reconsidering? Then his anger squashed down the hope that was rising up in his chest. Oh, no you don't. Grown-ups are fickle, he'd learned that the hard way. They were only feeling guilty. That's all. They didn't really want him, they wanted a normal child.

Hadrian looked down at his scarred hands. What was so weird about him?

He entered and exited the kitchen, going unnoticed by the fighting adults. He reentered his own room, carrying several pieces of bacon. He was pleased to see the owl still sitting on his bed, preening. "Hello," Hadrian said, holding out a piece of bacon, which the owl happily took. He watched it for a moment.

"I've never had a pet before," he told it. "Do you want to stick with me? I'm probably leaving soon, but I'll take as good care of you as I can."

"Dooooooo!"

"Is that a yes?"

"Dooooooo!"

Hadrian grinned. "I'll call you Dewy."

"Dooooooo!"

"You're smart for an owl," Hadrian said, holding out another piece of bacon. If owls could look prideful, Dewy did. Hadrian unrolled the scroll.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

I was surprised to find your owl. Interesting little thing, isn't he. In any event, I would be happy to send a guide your way. It is not uncommon to need one. His name is Rubeus Hagrid, a member of the Staff here at Hogwarts. He will be by your place of residence within two or three days. Furthermore, I wouldn't worry about the tuition fee if I were you.

I look forward to seeing you in class.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n this entire chapter is random flashbacks from Hadrian's childhood and are not necessarily in order. Just know that his age, while not specified in any of these, is anywhere between 3 and 10.**

 **May the gods be ever in your favor**

Hadrian was being dragged by the arm through the moist field. It was raining lightly, the water coming down in a gentle, but freezing mist. The green grass was already soaked, and _squelched_ loudly with every step he took. Miranda took no heed of any discomfort he might have displayed, just as Hadrian was trying to ignore the hateful venom she was spewing out of her mouth.

"…all your fault. He was a good man until you….must have done something…pushed him over the edge." Hadrian slipped on a span's length of mud, sprawling on the ground. Since Miranda was not a large woman, and she was gripping his arm rather tightly, she came down as well. Right on top of him.

Hadrian let out a pained scream as he felt something in his arm crack and break. The pain coursed through his body, his lungs were clenching. He was silenced by a slap across the face.

"Clumsy!" Miranda shrieked. She raised her hand again, Hadrian flinched. But then a roar, from out of nowhere, stilled her hand. Before Hadrian knew what was happening, he was picked up and thrown several feet, as carelessly as one would handle an old ratty rag doll. He hit the ground face first, his neck twisting awkwardly. His head was swimming, he could hear raised voices in the background, but could make no sense of what was said. He blearily raised his head, and found he couldn't see straight. Everything was blurred, and somethings had doubles of themselves that were throbbing in and out of focus.

Hadrian struggled to his feet, cradling his broken arm. He was confused, so confused. What was going on? The family he was with had seemed nice at first. Maybe it _was_ his fault. _He_ made them go bad. Maybe he'd made **all** his past families go bad. He stumbled away from the two adult, who barely noticed the small figure go.

He could barely see, everything was unnaturally loud, he was hurting everywhere, and, as usual, his lungs were acting up. His breathing was labored, noisy.

'Make it stop' Hadrian pleaded to some unknown entity. He'd heard of god, though apparently god had never heard of him, since the deity had never once answered him. But maybe, maybe this once. 'Make it stop!' Hadrian pleaded again, as he tripped and fell. He didn't bother trying to get up.

He kept repeating his prayer, silently. Maybe, if he asked sincerely enough, god would listen.

When he woke up, the sun was shining, he was alone, and he felt fine.

***1047***

They were following him. They followed him every day, but today they were following closer than normal. The three of them. A girl and two boys, all too tall for their age group in school. All a bit too cruel for it to be healthy. They were looking right at him, Hadrian could tell, even without turning around. Hadrian picked up his pace, hoping they would go stalk someone else.

No such luck. "Freak!" they shouted after him, or to be more specific, the girl shouted after him. Hadrian sighed, but didn't stop walking. A rough hand in his hair stopped him instead. "I'm talking to you!"

"I could tell," Hadrian said, pushing her hand away, but failing to get the boy that was holding him to let go. "Leave me alone."

The boys sneered while the girl grinned maliciously. "I saw you pocket some money from Mrs. Needham's purse." She said innocently. "If you give it to us, we won't tell."

"Why should I care if you tell?"

"You should, because _before_ we tell, we're going to take it from you." Hadrian rolled his eyes, shoving the bigger boy away, a little harder. He boy let go, but then his friend sucker punched Hadrian, leaving him gasping. "Give it"

If Hadrian had the breath, he would have scoffed at her use of the English language. It was a miracle these apes were able to communicate at all. But he didn't so the best he could manage was an eye roll. Then the boy who had previously held him by his hair started patting him down, searching his pockets for the cash. It was only five bucks, but to kids like these three it was a lot. It wasn't to Hadrian, because Hadrian was looking to buy something bigger than dime store candy: he needed it to buy today and tomorrow's supper. And it was currently stuffed down his left sock.

"Where'd you put it, freak?" the boy to his right demanded.

Hadrian smiled sweetly. "I planted it, so that it would grow into a big beautiful money tree." He was rewarded for his cheek by another blow to his gut.

"Where" said the girl, twisting the scant amount of loose flesh on his right forearm "did" she stomped on his foot while still holding his arm "you" she raised her foot, as though she were going to kick him. But before she could land a blow or speak another word, Hadrian lost control.

 _No_ …he begged whatever demon was controlling his releases on energy. But it paid him no heed. All three bullies were flung out into the busy street they stood next to.

Right into oncoming traffic.

***1047***

Hadrian couldn't tear his eyes away. She was really pretty. Like, _really_ , pretty. Which struck him as odd, since he usually saw girls as a waste of time. But Violette Allard was different than the others. Maybe it was her gentle demeanor, the way she put other's first, or her sunlight-golden ringlets that glinted white in direct sunshine. Maybe it was her porcelain, unmarked skin. Or perhaps her funny accent, that had an interesting lilt to it.

Or, more likely, it was that she looked at him without fear.

The new exchange student, she hadn't heard the rumors about him yet. Or, if she had, she'd just laughed it off, thinking it was a funny joke. After all, how weird was it to think that someone who shared class and recess with you was actually and alien, or a demon, or a monster…or a murderer.

Hadrian thinks he may have killed their last sub. But the man was annoying so it was no real loss to the human race. Firstly, the substitute teacher had kept calling him "little Harry" and had talked down to him like he was some kind of infant. Then he'd insisted "little Harry" must "play nice" with the rest of the "kiddies". That must have been the breaking point.

Hadrian had scowled, rising to his feet. He looked the old man right in the eye. And he glared. He heard one of the other kids say later that his eyes had glowed for a moment. His natural luminescent green taking on an "evil" look, flashing like a "lightsaber" (whatever those were). Then, the man had simply fallen over.

Dead.

Hadrian honestly didn't know what had happened, nor did he care. But, for some reason, he felt glad that pretty, kind, sweet little Violette didn't believe a word of "zat nonsense!" That was another thing, too. Violette was obviously smarter, or at least better educated, than the others children around him. Something Hadrian found undeniably attractive.

Had he really just thought that? 'Attractive'? Hadrian allowed a small smile. Yes, he might find Violette Allard attractive. Pleasing, even. Then he frowned. What did children his age do for other children whom they "like liked"?

'Like Liked', Hadrian snorted out loud. Drawing fearful looks from some of his peers. Violette only looked over at him and smiled softly, like thy were sharing a joke. Hadrian smiled again, this time looking directly into her large hazel eyes. Gathering up some courage, Hadrian stood up from where he was sitting against the fence of the playground, and strolled over to the swings, where Violette was quietly watching the other children.

"'ello," said Violette as he drew near.

"Hello" Hadrian said. "Can I sit with you?" Violette nodded. "I'm Hadrian. Hadrian Potter" he introduced himself as he sat himself on the swing nearest to the little girl.

"Violette Allard," she said to be polite, even though the teacher had introduced her in front of the whole class that morning. "Pleased to meet you, 'Adrian."

"Likewise," Hadrian said, kicking off the ground slightly. They sat in silence, swinging for a few moments. Hadrian paused, then turned to Violette, who stopped as well when she saw that her new friend had done so. "Do you like flowers?"

"Yes?" she said uncertainly.

Hadrian fisted on hand, then wrapped the other around it as well. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on his hands. "'Adrian?" asked Violette curiously. He ignored her for now, pushing the energy he constantly felt at his core down his arms. After a moment, he looked back up, a small bouquet of violets and roses in his hands.

"Oh!" Violette said in surprise. She clapped her small hands, praising him for his "magic trick". Hadrian was about to hand the flowers to her.

"Violette?" asked a voice. Hadrian tensed. Poppy, an ugly girl four months his senior, stood just behind him. "Harry is a bad boy. I told you."

"'is name ez 'Adrian," Violette said, her noise in the air. "And 'e ez very kind." Hadrian beamed at her.

"My mommy said he's possessed" said one of Poppy's friend.

"He killed a teacher"

"He stolded from me once"

"My big brother told me not to talk to him. Said he's a monster."

Hadrian glared at all of them. How dare they! He had every right to talk to Violette. Anger coursed through him. He wanted to kill them all. He wanted to watch them burn. Watch as the light when out in their eyes. As the skin on their bones were reduced to stinking ash that floated away with the wind.

Suddenly, Violette screamed. "You—you _are_ a monster!"

Hadrian felt hurt and confused, then he looked down at his hand. The flowers he'd made for Violette were on fire. It was a weird looking black fire. The thing was, while the flowers were consumed in an instant. The fire kept burning on his hand. But it didn't hurt.

Hadrian slapped his hand against his pants leg, putting the fire out. When he looked back up, Violette was running away to tell a teacher. Hadrian was suspended for "playing with matches", and Violette never spoke to him again.

***1047***

: _Little human:_ said a sympathetic voice. : _he looks so sad. I wish I knew why he was crying. Such a pretty little hatchling. For a human, anyway.:_

Hadrian sniffled back some tears. : _I'm not pretty. And I'm not crying either._ : He turned to glare at whoever had directed their pity at him, but when he did, he found nobody. : _Where-_ :

 _:Down here.:_

Hadrian turned his head, looking for the source of the voice. When he did, he saw a small grass snake. Hadrian looked at it, slightly surprised that the snake could talk. : _How do you know how to speak English?_ : The snake seemed surprised.

 _:I am not speaking any human-tongue. It is you who is speaking in parseltongue, young speaker.:_ The snake slithered closer to him. _:I have not met a speaker, nor has my kind seen the likes of you for many years, to my knowledge.:_

This made Hadrian depressed all over again. : _Go away. I'm a dangerous freak. I could hurt you on accident.:_ The snake seemed to think this was funny.

: _You cannot hurt me, young one. And even if you do, I would forgive you. After all, you are special among your kind. A true speaker. Fate must be happy with me today. I am honored to have met you.:_ This was truly the nicest thing **anyone** had ever said to him. Hadrian wiped his eyes.

: _I'm glad to meet you, too. My name's Hadrian.:_

: _what is name?:_

Hadrian paused for a moment. : _It's a word that labels you, so other people can tell you apart.:_ The snake considered this for a moment.

: _snakes do not have names. But I am brown. Not all snakes are brown.:_

 _:You want me to call you "Brown"?:_

 _:You don't like it? Well, I eat frogs.:_

 _:I guess I'll call you Frog, than:_ Hadrian giggled. He held out his hand, and Frog didn't hesitate to slither up onto his warm skin. She was with him for almost two years, through thirteen foster homes, sticking with him constantly. That is, until she was discovered by one of his foster siblings, who took great joy in cutting off her head with a shovel.

***1047***

—Present Day—

Hadrian slowly opened his eyes. It was earlier than he usually got up. He'd gotten up early the last three days now. It had been four days ago that he'd received his second letter from Professor McGonagall. The man, Rubeus Hagrid, should have showed up by now, surly?

Dewy was off hunting somewhere, Hadrian guessed, since the little owl was sitting on his usual perch on Hadrian's headboard. It was still dark out, except for the faint orange glow along the horizon. The stars were still out, though they were going out one by one.

Hadrian sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking out the window at the dawn for a few moments, before sliding out from under his covers. He was just finishing up in the bathroom, when a miniature earthquake shook the house.

 ** _THUD THUD THUD CRASH!_**

 ** _***1047***_**

 **a/n PLEASE REVIEW! I want to know your opinions for the next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

Hadrian dashed out from his room, only to find that in the entry way, a huge man (who looked like a hobo on steroids) had knocked down the front door. The man looked up and gave Hadrian a sheepish grin. "Sorry 'bout that" the huge man said. "Jus' wasn't sure you could hear me." Hadrian's brows furrowed into a frown.

"I'm fairly certain _China_ could hear you," Hadrian replied as his two caretakers stumbled into the room, Phil bearing a loaded shotgun, which he waved around at the other occupants of the house, including his own wife, who shrieked and batted the weapon away.

"Who are you?" Phil demanded loudly. "What are you doing here? We don't have any money in the house, if that's what you're after!" The large man looked confused.

"Now see here," said the man. "I ain't after no money. I jus' came to pick up Harry, here." The man beamed down at Hadrian, who was too stunned to get angry about the stupid nickname. "Name's Rubeus Hagrid," he said, almost proudly. "Though mos' jus' call me 'Hagrid', so I reckon you can, too." Then it clicked for Hadrian. The woman, McGonagall in her letter said that she'd be sending someone by that name to help him get his school supplies.

"You're from Hogwarts?" Hadrian asked suspiciously.

"What are you talking about?" Lori demanded. Phil was gaping in confusion. But Hagrid and Hadrian weren't really paying attention to the two of them. Hagrid only beamed and nodded his shaggy head.

"Aye, tha' be right," he said proudly. "Keeper of the Keys and Grounds o' Hogwarts. Hired by Dumbledore himself. Great man, tha'."

Dumbledore. The name stirred old memories in Hadrian's mind. Very _unpleasant_ memories. He very much doubted that Dumbledore was a "great man". Then Hadrian frowned. _How_ _had he known_? He'd ponder it out later, he decided. Hagrid was waiting for a reaction. So, Hadrian smiled. "I'm sure," then with one look at his caretakers he continued. "If you're here to take me to buy my school supplies, I'm already ready to go. I was going to head back to the group home anyway. It's okay if I leave."

Phil looked like he wanted to interrupt, but his wife stopped him. "Well, if you're sure," said Hagrid happily. "Jus' get anything ye wan'a grab and we'd best be goin'." Hadrian nodded, heading to his room. Everything he owned could fit in a knapsack. He'd been ready to go for days now. He noticed with pleasure as he opened his door that Dewy was back. Hadrian clicked his tongue and patted his shoulder. Dewy flew over.

"Dooooo"

"Yeah, we're going out."

"Dooooo"

"Oh, I dunno yet. Expect we'll find out soon enough."

"Doooooo"

Hadrian grinned as though his pet just told a fantastic joke. He knew that talking to yourself was a sign of insanity, and he briefly wondered if that carried over to talking to one's pets as though they were smarted than the majority of humans. Hadrian shoved everything unceremoniously into his bag then slung it over his shoulders, walking out of his room with no intention of ever coming back. Phil's eyes widened when he saw Dewy, and Lori gave a brief shriek, but neither really said anything.

"Ah," said Hagrid. "He's a fine one, tha'" he said, stretching one huge finger out to gently stroke Dewy's chest. "Not yer typical mail owl, but then yer special yerself, ain't ye Harry?" Once again, Hadrian ignored the use of that hated name, and only nodded with an extraordinarily phony smile.

They stepped out onto the street and Hagrid held out his ratty umbrella. Just as Hadrian was about to ask what he was doing, a bus seemed to appear out of nowhere, zooming faster than Hadrian had ever seen anything move. Though he seemed to be the only one who found this surprising. Not Dewy, nor Hagrid nor the young man who stepped out of the bus seemed to think anything out of the ordinary was happening. Words and coins were exchanged, but Hadrian wasn't much paying attention. He was thinking.

Dumbledore. Magic. The blasted name _Harry_. Hogwarts. It was all connected somehow, and Hadrian felt like he should _know_. Or rather, that it _was_ something that he knew. He just couldn't remember. He felt as though he was missing something crucial. On a hunch, he turned to Hagrid who was happily talking about something or other. When the man took a breath, Hadrian jumped in with a question. "Would you tell me about my parents?"

The question seemed to take Hagrid by surprise. A plethora of emotions jumped fleetingly across his face before he finally decided on nostalgic. "Mos' wonderful people." He said softly, reverently. "Lily was beautiful, inside and ou'. So kind to me, she was. Treated me like family, both of them did. James was strong, one of the best aurors we had. Course' wasn't the only reason I miss 'im. A better friend I never had, 'sides them. Loved you, both of 'em did. More 'n anything, really. 's why they went into hidin'. Ta save you."

"Hiding?" Hadrian asked. "Why were they hiding?"

Hagrid frowned with a sigh. "'cause You-Know-Who was after 'em. See, he was angry at 'em. They didn't side with him in the war. They didn't side with the Order either, but that was only 'cause they didn't want you to get caught in the crossfire." Hagrid snorted. "Fat lotta luck that got 'em."

"You-Know-Who?" Hadrian asked curiously.

"Tha's right," said Hagrid, shaking his head. "Raised by muggles, don' know what's is I'm talking 'bout, 'spect."

"Muggles?" Hadrian was growing more confused. The word was familiar, but he wasn't sure what it meant.

"Non magic people," said Hagrid. "s'what the war was fought over. Whether they should know 'bout magic, and whether they should be 'lowed to raise Wizards an' witches born to 'em. You-Know-Who, he fought for the Dark side" Hadrian inwardly scoffed, getting a mental image of Darth Vader with a magic wand. "Wanted all muggles dead, he did" not very far from what Hadrian wanted.

"What's his name?" Hadrian asked.

"Can't say it," Hagrid said stubbornly. "Name's cursed it is. No one says it, not even after you defeated 'im, all those years 'go."

"Defeated him?" Hadrian asked. "Can't I know the name? I'll never say it aloud." Hadrian pleaded with his eyes, and Hagrid shifted uncomfortably before giving in.

"Well, alright, but don't go 'round tellin' people I told it to ye," said Hagrid before leaning in and lowering his voice to a whisper. "Voldemort" Hagrid sat back up and shuddered. "Don' like saying it. An' anyway. When you was a baby, he killed…killed," Hagrid took a deep breath and simply continued on. "An when he turned to kill you," Hagrid smiled once more. "He jus' couldn't No one really knows why, jus that after all the people he's murdered, he couldn' kill you."

Hadrian lifted a hand up, tracing the small scar on his forehead. "Aye," said Hagrid with a nod. "That's where he cursed you. Killing Curse. Ain't no one's survived that. 'sept you."

Voldemort. Dumbledore. His parents. War. A sharp pain shot through his forehead.

***1047***

Voldemort was possessing Severus at the moment, sitting in the "Back seat" as the potion master worked on a potion, either a calming drought or a Dreamless Sleep, Voldemort couldn't remember. When all of a sudden, a sharp pain erupted inside of him. Severus obviously felt it as well, because he suddenly dropped his stirring rod and clutched at his forehead.

' _M-my Lord_?' Severus asked, gritting his teeth against the pain.

' _It…isn't…me…'_ Voldemort thought back to him. Unbidden, memories of _that night_ arose. That horrible 'last night' he was 'alive'. He'd been foolish enough, _weak_ enough to get compulsed by Dumbledore. And then he'd killed two of his most powerful allies. He'd almost killed little Hadrian, but through some ritual Lily had performed in case Dumbledore ever tried to off them, the spell had rebounded because Lily had thrown herself in front of the first curse Tom had hurled at the child.

He remembered getting hit in the back. He remembered laughing as he sent an _Avada Kadavra_ at James Potter. He watched himself in his mind's eyes as he walked up those creaking stairs and set his eyes on Hadrian Potter. He pointed his wand and whispered "Avada Kadavra", but out of nowhere, Lily threw herself in front of his wand, the curse hitting her soundly in her chest. Voldemort remembered a crazed cackle ripping out of his throat. Then he'd lowered his wand at the infant. Hadrian had sat up and said one word.

"Mort!"

"Avada Kadavra!"

Pain. Horrible pain.

***1047***

Hadrian followed Hagrid around Diagon Alley, ignoring the ache in his forehead. The memories swirling around were both his own…and not. He only knew one thing for _absolute certain_. He didn't like Dumbledore. At all.

He was feeling torn all morning between boredom and amazement. It was the strangest feeling: that he'd never be able to see enough, and that he'd seen it all before. Perhaps his parents had taken him there? It was all so familiar and _ordinary_ and yet novel and amazing. The goblins seemed to recognize him as well. Hadrian smiled and waved at them, a few of them waved back, others bowed, which Hadrian returned. He'd been only slightly surprised to find that he was rich, he'd taken the bottomless pouch from the goblin, who'd said it was linked to his vaults. He watched as Hagrid pocketed something from another vault.

After that it was to Florish and Blotts, then to an apothecary for his cauldron, scales, utensils and potion ingredients. His wand was next, though Hagrid hadn't followed him in. He'd left for his third "pick-me-up" that day. So Hadrian wandered in on his own. It looked like the strangest cross between a book store and a shoe store. Dust and cobwebs covered everything.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I was wondering when I would see you."

***1047***

Lucius Malfoy passed by the Potions lab, giving Voldemort the opportunity to jump to him from Severus. The poor Potions Master couldn't concentrate with Voldemort in the back of his brain, he kept messing up his potions, which aggravated the man, making him mess up even more. Lucius started a little at the intrusion, but then greeted his Lord fondly before leaving to collect his son.

' _Where are we going_?' Voldemort asked.

' _Diagon Alley'_ Lucius responded. ' _Draco needs new robes and supplies before term'_

***1047***

"You have your mother's eyes." Ollivander continued. " It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to him. Hadrian wondered if he ever needed to blink. His silvery eyes were creepy as hell. As he spoke, a tape measure flew about him, measuring _everything_. Hadrian did his best to ignore it.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Hadrian was official creeped out, when the short little man reached out and _poked_ his forehead. "And that's where…"

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..." Hadrian once again felt that _wrongness_. He somehow just knew that Ollivander didn't really know. He didn't understand. Hadrian wanted him to understand, but it was impossible when he was so confused himself.

He was still standing there, thinking quietly to himself when Ollivander approached him with a small box. He held out a wand to Hadrian. "Which is your wand arm."

"I'm right handed," said Hadrian. Ollivander nodded, and Hadrian took the wand.

"Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave." Hadrian was about to wave it about when Ollivander snatched it back, muttering under his breath. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -" Hadrian tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

After what seemed like ages, and a hundred different wands, they still hadn't found one suitable to Hadrian. Ollivander seemed pleased by this, for some reason. But Hadrian started feeling depressed, like each wand simply wrote him off like some many people had done to him so many times. Hadrian stopped paying attention after a while, going into auto pilot. That is, until a wonderful warmth shot up his arm. Golden and silver sparks erupted from the tip of his wand. Hadrian smiled, this was _his_. He then glared suspiciously at Ollivander, as if daring him to take this one away as well.

But the little man only laughed and told him that it costs seven galleons. "But still….curious, very curious…" Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar. Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

Hadrian felt like he agreed with what Ollivander was saying, but he only handed over the money, and left the store.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius and Remus sat side by side in a wide window seat, staring out the foggy windows. The werewolf's forehead leaned against the cold glass, emptily looking down at his hand, which was intertwined with Sirius'. Sirius' thumb was thoughtfully stroking his husband's ring finger, and the simple gold band that sat there. It was July 31: their cub's birthday.

Sirius remembered the day so well. Lily, tired but healthy, was laughing as James made faces at his new born. Lucius declared him the second finest lad in the wizarding world (first, of course, being his own little one). Severus had gazed down at the sweet little face in awe and adoration of his little "nephew". Remus was pale, still shaken from hearing Lily's screams and hearing all the blood and Sirius had teased him for it. Those next 18 months were some of the most precious of their lives, even though there had been a war going on.

Then…their Lord had been _compulsed_ from behind. Sirius gritted his teeth, leaning forward against Remus' firm chest, seeking comfort. Arms immediately wrapped around him. Late summer-early fall was always a hard time for them. Hadrian's birthday, the anniversary of Lily and James' deaths, the fall of their Lord.

Sirius was especially feeling wretched: it was all his fault that their sweet little puppy wasn't with them. He'd gotten to Godric Hollow and seen the prone, still figures of Rabastan and Rudolphus and the smoldering remains of the house before anyone. And he'd frozen. Hadrian had been in that house, and all Sirius could do was panic, unable to move. Then Hagrid, the gullible oaf, had lumbered up behind him, sobbing and blowing his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth.

Sirius, thinking that it was safe to leave little Hadrian in the care of the gentle giant, had promptly taken off, leaving his motorbike behind, in search of Dumbledore's pet rat. He cornered Pettigrew, demanding to know what had happened. There was no way this could have gone that _wrong_ without some kind of foul play. And Sirius wanted whoever's fault it was to die. Painfully.

The pitiful rat had then blown up the street, cutting off a finger, making his escape. Sirius had collapsed to his knees, sobbing and laughing at the same time. After all, it was he who had taught Peter how to transform as a school boy. His fellow Aurors had come and demanded answers, but Sirius was crying too hard to answer. Remus had shown up, throwing his arms around Sirius just before they were both escorted away. Originally, Sirius was just thrown into Azkaban (thank you _so much_ , Dumbledore.) Along with Rabastan, Rudolphus, Bellatrix, Lucius, Fenrir, Severus and Mulciber.

Their people in the ministry were working around the clock, and Lucius was given a trial. He claimed _Imperio_ , and provided real pensive evidence. All of the Knights were so grateful for their Lord's insight, having actually _Imperioed_ them on several occasions just in case something like this ever happened. Rabastan and Rudolphus did the same. Before Severus could, Dumbledore stepped in for his 'spy', and he got of spot free. Bellatrix pleaded insane, and was cleared to get mental health, which she had to suffer through for seven years before she was completely free. Mulciber and many others were still imprisoned, Fenrir included. They hadn't been able to get away from the false charges of murder, robbery, torture and rape.

The Lestrange brothers almost hadn't been able to get away. Dumbledore had stolen their wands, tortured the Longbottoms (HIS OWN ORDER MEMBERS!) and then replaced the wands on their unconscious bodies just before Auror's arrived. They and Sirius had only gotten off under trials with Versitrasum.

No, none of them were Death Eaters (They were Knights of Walpurgis). No, they didn't know why Voldemort attacked the Potters (they really didn't.) No, they didn't know what Voldemort's plans were (because their Lord wisely never told anyone anything under right before it had to be done). No, the Lestranges hadn't tortured Alice and Frank Longbottom to insanity. No, Sirius hadn't betrayed the Potters. No, he wasn't the secret keeper. And as for "Who did the Potters name Secret Keeper?" Peter. It was Sirius and Remus who had done the ritual with Severus.

In the end they were let off. But by then, four months had passed, and it was too late. Dumbledore had sent Little Hadrian off to god knows where. Severus had resumed his place as spy among Dumbledore at Hogwarts, in an attempt to find out where Hadrian was. The Knights all searched, day and night, for weeks. Severus lead them to a small, ordinary kind of town. Surrey. Where all the houses looked alike.

Sev and Lucius had been the ones to walk up to the house, while the rest hide, disillusioned, on the street. The door was opened by a horse-faced woman with a boney neck and shrill voice. The visit ended with Severus hexing the two muggles who lived there. Sirius could still remember the look of total devastation on Severus' face as his legs gave out beneath him. Lucius caught him, and held him possessively to himself as Severus shouted words of hatred at the muggles. They'd had to _Obliviate_ several people, including police officers who had shown up because a neighbor had reported in a disturbance.

What they found out that day tore at Sirius, almost as badly as Lily and James' deaths had: The muggles had sent Hadrian to the Foster System. Severus, paler than normal, had stuttered out something about being in the system for a few months after his mother passed away when he was fifteen, before Lucius had rescued him, taking him away to live at Malfoy Manor.

What he described…

And Severus had been a teenager. Hadrian was an infant. They'd tried sending him letters, but they always returned unopened. Lucius suspected it was Dumbledore's doing. Hadrian would be eleven today, Sirius knew. Maybe he'd be getting his Hogwarts letter? Maybe he was doing his shopping right then? Half of him wanted to go to the Alley, tear down every shop brick by brick until he found his cub. Be he knew that if Hadrian wasn't there, he'd only be causing more trouble for the Knight's than he was worth.

***1047***

Severus was trying his best not to think about what day it was: his nephew's birthday. He mentally shook himself, relieved that he was, once again, alone in his head. He was loyal to his Lord, and he'd do anything Voldemort asked him to do, but he hated it when it was his turn to "house" his Lord.

Not that he'd ever let his Lord know that.

Severus corked the last vial of blood replenishing potions, then carefully packed every last one into a case. He walked over to the Floo, the potions in hand, and grabbed a handful of powder, throwing it into the fireplace before announcing "Poppy's Office!" He disappeared in a rush of flame, then stepped out of Madame Pomfrey's fireplace. He walked over to her cabinet and started restocking it with the potions he'd brought. "Severus? Is that you?" a voice called. It wasn't Pomfrey.

"In here, Minerva!" Severus returned as he put away the last few vials. McGonagall stepped in ust as he finished up. "From the potions she ordered, I think Poppy is expecting half the students to simultaneously…" Severus noticed his colleagues' pale face. He gently took her by the crook of her elbow, and lead her over to a soft chair, helping her sit down. He grabbed her a calming draught and passed it to her, she downed it then passed the vial back. "What's the matter?" Severus asked, his tone all business.

"Hagrid owled me this morning," she began, taking a deep breath. "I apologize for not telling you about something earlier, but one Mr. Hadrian Potter send me an owl about four days ago asking that someone take him to get his supplies. I thought Hagrid would be a good choise, Albus agreed but asked that it stay between us…" Severus tried his hardest not to glare at the woman. After all these years…

"How is the brat?" Severus asked with a sneer that wasn't directed at Hadrian, though McGonagall seemed to think otherwise.

"Living with muggles," Minerva fumed. "I'd thought he'd been with a loving wizarding family. But the Hagrid tells me he knows nothing of the wizarding world, nothing at all! Furthermore he's covered in bruises and is as 'jumpy as a thestral'…whatever that means." It took everything in Severus not to run out of the infirmary right then and there, to find his darling nephew, cast a thousand protection, bubble and cushioning charms on him, then lock him away from everything hurtful in the world.

"And where is he now?"

"With Hagrid, getting his school things."

"Then I don't see why you're worried," Severus replied smoothly. "You know how children roughhouse, what with being the Gryffindor Head." This garnered both a scowl and a small smile. "And Hagrid is well known for his love of the Potters. I would be surprised if Mr. Potter only gets a small cut on his arm, and Hagrid would insist on wrapping it in a cast." Minerva chuckled. "Though, if it will put you at ease, I will go check up on the boy."

"Thank you, Severus"

***1047***

Hadrian wanted another pet, much to Dewy's annoyance. He was batting his wings, repeatedly "Doo"ing as if asking why he wasn't good enough. Hadrian patiently stroked Dewy, trying to get him to understand that he wasn't being replaced. Originally, Hadrian was happy with just his wonky little owl. But then they'd passed by the pet shop in someplace called "Knockturn Alley", and seen cages and cages of beautiful snakes in the window.

"Now, 'member'' Hagrid had told him. "'ficially speaking, not supposed ter let you go down 'ere. But don' see no harm in it." So while Hagrid looked around at large, knobbly kneed squirrel-like water creatures, Hadrian examined the snakes. Many of them weren't very lively, having been in there a long time. Hadrian felt a little bad for them, but he was only allowed one other pet, Hagrid had said, and Hadrian didn't want a boring one.

Then his ear caught loud, angry hissing. _:Stay away from me!:_ Hadrian spun around. A small black snake was hissing at a large, king cobra. Hadrian's eyes widened as he watched.

The Cobra laughed at the little snake, which couldn't be much older than a few days at most. _:And why should I listen to my food?:_

 _:I'm no one's food!:_ the little snake insisted. It was very young, as Hadrian had a hard time telling from its voice if it was male or female.

: _Stop_ : Hadrian said in a low, commanding voice. The cobra immediately stilled, but the other snake only hissed at him too. Hadrian smirked at it, reaching his hand into the glass terrarium.

"Don't! Both those snakes are very dangerous!" the clerk cried at him, but Hadrian didn't listen.

:If you want to leave here, come with me," Hadrian held his hand open for the little snake. The snake thought for a moment, then slithered into his palm. Hadrian pulled his hand back out and told the clerk he wanted this one.

"Twelve Galleons," the clerk responded weakly. Hagrid suggested ice cream after they'd paid, and started going on about what a beautiful snake she was. The two of them mostly ignored Hagrid. Dewy and the snake eyes each other warily.

: _This is my owl, Dewy_ : Hadrian introduced. : _Don't worry, I won't let him eat you_ : he said as he petted Dewy, who 'Doo'ed happily in response. _:What's your name?:_

The Snake thought for a moment. : _Meraki_ : it hissed.

: _Is that a boy name, or a girl's name?:_ That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Meraki immediately reared up, hissing and spitting angrily.

: _I AM MALE!:_

 _:Okay:_ Hadrian said quickly. _:And you're a very handsome one. What kind of snake are you?:_ Slightly appeased, the snake extended its…wings. Hadrian's eyes windened. : _Whoa, are you a dragon?:_ The little black snake, only five inches or so long, had teeny tiny wings with feathery scales that had silvery undersides. Each wing was only about three inches long, papery thin and delicate looking. Tiny, but sharp, three-toed claws could be seen on the tips. They were vaguely bat-like, but when closed tight against his body, you wouldn't even know Meraki had them.

: _I am a Xiuhcoatl,_ : Meraki said proudly. _:A type of Quetzalcoatl. Dragons are descended from the largest of my kin.:_

 _:And how big will you get?:_

 _:That depends on you and how powerful you are, master. Should you be average, I shall grow around the size of a dog:_ Meraki sneered. : _Though a level above that, and I shall receive legs and elemental fire. Above that, and you can mount me, above that and I can carry others, above that and we shall become one.:_

 _:What do you mean, 'become one':_

 _:We would bond, master. Xiuhcoatl only bond with those just as magically powerful as we are. Our minds we would share, out magic we would share. I would see through your eyes and you through mine. Your wand would be mine, my wings and fire, yours.:_

 _:I look forward to it:_

 _:What makes you think you are that powerful?:_ Hadrian only smiled at his new familiar.

***1047***

Draco watched as his father left Madam Malkin's, leaving him there to get his own robes. He sighed, then turned to the witch as she walked in. "The Hogswart set?" she asked kindly. Draco shook his head.

"Seven sets of fitted robes, silk if you please, with silver fastenings and…" Dracon continued to list off the things his father had told him he wanted. The witch nodded, jotting down the order on her pad, then spelling measuring tapes to fly about Draco's body, measuring. The witch had just bustled away into the back when the door opened back up. Draco turned, wanting to see if his father had returned.

It wasn't his father. Rather, it was a young man, about his age. The boy had pale skin, like ivory, where it wasn't scared. Draco noticed that the young man's skin wouldn't have been blemished, if it weren't for those improperly healed wounds. And yet, it didn't make the young man unpleasant to look at. Rather, it made him interesting. The young man had long-ish raven hair that was pulled back into a messy but tight tail near the back of the crown of his head. Loose hair flew about his face, almost blocking his eyes from view. Almost, but not quite.

Draco felt his breath catch as those _magnificent_ eyes turned to him. Greener than spring itself, and brighter than stars, they peered up curiously at him. The boy tilted his head, and Draco was struck by how _adorable_ he was. The boy was small, very small. Almost a good head shorter than he, and slender. His lips were pink and full, his nose small. A small owl was perched on his left shoulder, and in his hands was a small snake. Draco smiled at the boy.

"Hello, I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"My name's Hadrian," the boy replied in a soft voice, gentle and almost musical. "Hadrian Potter."

The long repressed Veela in his Malfoy blood suddenly reared up. _MINE_ was the all consuming thought in Draco's mind as he hopped off the stool, ignoring the measuring tools still flying around. He held out a hand to Hadrian. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hadrian," Draco said with a genuine smile on his lips. Hadrian looked hesitant, confused. But he held out his hand anyway. Draco bowed over it, like he'd seen his Father do at formal events, and gently brushed his lips over the pale, scared skin. Then he looked up cautiously at the beautiful boy, and was delighted to see pink blush spread across the ivory cheeks.

"Pleasure's mine," Hadrian replied, even quieter than before. Though a smile was on his lips. Unknown to Draco, a certain serpent was laughing at the two of them, asking Hadrian when they'd get to "making hatchlings".


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, guys! Sorry, it's been forever, I got caught up in my other stories, and then I went on vacation, and then I had** ** _other_** **story ideas…anyway, here's the next chapter. Hopefully updates will be more frequent, now. But I just started my first job, and I'm also going to be doing college soon, so don't get your hopes up for anything** ** _too_** **frequent. Anyway, if you have any comments, please share in the reviews!**

 **~James**

Just then, the woman came back out and caught sight of the two of them. Hadrian quickly pulled his hand away from Draco, who'd still been holding it. Draco's face was just as impassively blank as Hadrian's, Madam Malkin looked back and forth curiously from one boy to the other. She then seemed to mentally shrug and gesture for Hadrian to hop up on one stand, and for Draco to return to his own. Flyting measuring tapes flew out of a small basket that was secured by her waist. Hadrian watched as they began to measure the other boy.

"Hogwarts, dear?" the woman asked. Hadrian nodded, wordlessly. "Any specifics?" Draco cut in, when he noticed the other boy seemed to look slightly lost.

"You should get the fitted robes if you can, and you can get trimmings in either silver or gold, though you'll want to coordinate with your house." Hadrian nodded, then frowned.

"I'll have the fitted robes," he said, and Draco marveled at how soft and smooth his voice was. "But I don't know what house I'll be in…" His voice trailed off as he looked back to Draco.

"That's alright," Draco was quick to assure him. "No one really knows until they get there. Everyone thought that my friend Sirius would be in Slytherin for sure, but then he got Gryffindor. All you can do is guess right now. I'm pretty certain I'll be in Slytherin, for the cunning and ambitious. But then there's Ravenclaw, they also use silver. They're known for being wise or book-smart. Hufflepuffs are loyal and hardworking, and Gryffindors are brave. Those last two use gold." Hadrian nodded, before quietly requesting the silver trimmings.

"Are you sure you can afford it, dear?" asked Madam Malkin kindly. "That'll be around 130 Galleons, depending on how much fabric it takes."

"If you do silk, it'll be 240," Draco added helpfully. Hadrian shrugged.

"That's fine," was all he said. Draco inwardly glowed, the boy was either a halfblood or pureblood, that was certain. He didn't show surprise at magical things or magical terms, like 'galleons'. And his father's only request was that he not marry a Muggleborn, for the only reason was that the old family doctrine forbade it. Furthermore, Hadrian was very obviously wealthy, despite the horrid clothes he was currently wearing…curious. Perhaps he and his family had been wandering about the muggle world and that's how they assumed muggles dressed? That would make sense, Draco had seen wizards wear far weirder things trying to blend in with the Muggles.

Madam Malkin left into the back, and a young shop assistant replaced her. Waving her wand, bolt of silk came off the shelf and began to gather around the Malfoy heir, forming themselves into robes. Pins and needles pulling thread set to work fastening them. "So you're aiming for either Ravenclaw or Slytherin?" Draco asked the other boy.

Hadrian nodded as he watched his owl fly around the shop. Draco noticed that his little snake was now sitting atop his head. "I don't consider myself to terribly ambitious, but I can be cunning when I feel like it. But I suppose Ravenclaw would be alright; I enjoy reading. However, I don't feel particularly wise."

Draco smiled. "I think the sorting is based on what your potential to _become_ is, and then you're sent to your house in hopes to cultivate that particular skill by being around others like you. For example, my uncle Remus was a Gryffindor, but when he was first sorted he wasn't very brave. But then he made friends who helped him, and now he'd one of the bravest men I know." Draco smiled fondly, thinking about the old werewolf, then he frowned, remembering how sad he and his mate had been that morning.

Draco's eyes widened. How could he be so _stupid_. Today was practically a national Holiday: Harry Potter's birthday. Potter… _Potter_. Wait a second. He looked over at Hadrian.

"I don't suppose you have a scar like a lightning bolt on your left temple…" Draco asked, forcing himself to at least act casual. Hadrian gave a little half smile as he raised the hair on his forehead that had previously hidden the scar from view. "Ah, interesting. Funny, that history remembers you by a name you don't use, isn't it Hadrian."

Hadrian gave a little snort. "I hate that nickname. I've never liked it."

"You want to know something strange," Draco asked, and Hadrian looked over at him. "My uncle I was talking about, the friend that made him brave was your dad." Hadrian's eyes went wide. "My father will be here soon, maybe I can talk him into letting you meet him. Would that be agreeable?" Hadrian seemed to have frozen.

"You're not lying," he said in disbelief, blinking slowly. "He knew my parents?"

Draco nodded, taking in Hadrian's strange reaction with curiosity. "Your parents were somewhat famous even _before_ the whole Boy-Who-Lived, thing. But aside from that, our families were rather close, I can't believe I didn't recognize it sooner. My father is married to your mum's best friend, my Papa. Your Godfather and Uncle Remus live at our Manor, they were your dad's best friends."

Hadrian slowly started to smile. "I'd like to meet them, if you think that'd be okay." Draco nodded happily, though he felt slightly confused. None of the grown-ups ever spoke about Hadrian in Draco's presence. But from what he could gather, no one knew where Dumbledore had stashed him. So, if Hadrian was lost, what was he doing _here?_

"So," Draco decided the easiest way to find out was just ask. The shop assistant, who had been trying to ignore what they were saying, noticeably perked up and looked interested as she added dainty buttons to Draco's robes. "Where've you been hiding all this time? No one's been able to find you."

Hadrian's smile turned to a scowl. "As far as I can figure, my original family shipped me off when I was a baby. I've been bounced around ever since. I've never really stayed in one place for long. A man named Hagrid took me here, he's around somewhere. Grabbing a drink, I think he said."

Draco was handed his robes in a shrunken bundle, which he shoved into his inside pocket. Father had already paid. "I'll wait for you to get done," Draco said as he sat down on the stool. "Father should be here soon, I'll introduce you then." Hadrian's smile was back.

They didn't say anything as Hadrian's robes were being finished up. They just watched as the owl (who Hadrian called 'Dewy') flew around, pecking at things and stealing ribbons. Fifteen minutes later, Hadrian was handed a bundle identical to Draco's and he shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. Hadrian held out his money back and the assistant tapped it with her wand, transferring the 247 galleons into the cashier."Since father isn't here yet, why don't we just go on ahead to grab what's next on the list?"

"Maybe a school trunk, to hold my things. My pockets are getting full. Do you have your school books yet, we could get those after?" Hadrian suggested. Draco nodded agreeably as he steered Hadrian towards the best trunk shop in the Alley, slipping his hand around the smaller boy's and smiling smugly when Hadrian's face lit up in a cute flush.

****1047****

Voldemort watched with some anticipation as Lucius hurried to the Leaky Cauldron to meet with his husband. He'd gotten a patronus shortly after Draco'd gotten his wand from Ollivander (10 inches hawthorn wood with a unicorn hair). Severus had information on "Hadrian" while delivering potions, the boy was in the Alley. Severus had asked that Lucius make his way to the dingy pub as soon as he could, and so he'd sent his son off to buy his own robes before practically running to find Severus.

Voldemort hoped that it _was_ the boy. He felt responsible for what had happened that night, even if his followers had long since forgiven him, if they'd even ever felt angry towards him at all. But Voldemort had been powerful, just as much or more so than Dumbledore. And he was smarter, there's no denying that. But Dumbledore was unpredictable, and Voldemort…liked to be organized. That had proved to be his down fall when Voldemort had shown up at Godric's Hallow to retrieve his Bella himself. And then he'd been compulsed…not even _imperioed_! CUMPULSED! To go and kill the Potters. He'd allowed stress to make him weak, and because of that Lily and James were dead, Hadrian had no doubt been suffering at the hands of the muggles and Voldemort himself was nothing more than a wraith.

Lucius entered the pub, his eyes finding the form of his husband immediately. Severus was speaking to a drunk Hagrid, obviously trying very hard to reign in his fury. Lucius stepped up and placed a hand in the small of Severus' back. Ever since Severus had been "proven" to be a spy for Dumbledore all along, he'd gained the respect of much of the wizarding world. Then, when he'd married Lucius, no one doubted that he'd actually been _imperioed_ any longer. Instead, they regarded Malfoy Sr. with sympathy that he was forced to do all those horrible things against his will. And so, Dumbledore's people either trusted him or put up with him. Dumbledore himself was forced to (say he) believed Lucius' story, after his spy married the man. Hagrid was one of the people who trusted him entirely, and so the half-giant's face lit up in happy recognition.

"Luvius!" He slurred, swaying. "Good yer 'ere" he hiccupped. "jus' 'splainin to Sevvy that Harry's a good lad…he is…" Hagrid took another deep draft. "So sad…such a tiny li'l thing. So sweet, 'e is, just like Lily"

"And where is he?" asked Lucius.

"Sen' 'im off to get 'is robes," Hagrid grinned. "'e's a goo' lad…" With that he hollered out for a refill. "Hav' ter get me mind off of James and Lily and…" Hagrid sighed. "Poor li'l guy." Severus didn't stay any longer, instead spinning around and stalking away. Lucius followed him.

"A little explanation would be appreciated both by myself, _and_ my uncle" Lucius told his husband while subtly letting him know that Voldemort was still with them. Severus sighed deeply as they exited the pub. Lucius placed a steadying hand on Severus' shoulder.

"Minerva mentioned that Hagrid had taken Hadrian to the Alley when I dropped off potions for Pomfrey soon after you left," Severus began to explain. "In a letter Hagrid sent her, he had mentioned several things that have lead me to believe that Hadrian…that in Foster Care…" Severus trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought. "I offered to come and check up on him, but the first thing I see upon arrival, is Hagrid drinking the world away while Hadrian is Merlin knows where." Severus paused ruefully. "He didn't mention sending him to get robes until you got here." Lucius smiled a bit at that.

"Come, then," he said to Severus as he pulled a little on the Potion Master's elbow. "I've already sent Draco to Madam Malkin's for his own robes. Perhaps he and young Hadrian have already met." The two men wove their way between the many many families that had come on July 31ts to celebrate their savior's birth. Restaurants were over flowing and the ice cream parlor had a line that stretched out the door. The shops were all crowded and street vendors called out to the passerby, adding to the noise of the street. Shop bells clanged, merchandise clattered, wizards bartered and mothers scolded their unruly children.

Voldemort let the familiar sounds of the Alley sooth his nerves. He knew growing up in a orphanage like he had was better than Foster Care, due to the small amount of stability it provided. And _he_ had emerged from the experience…damaged. It had taken years for him to trust people, and years more to overcome his need to make the muggles pay. How had Hadrian faired such a childhood? Granted, Voldemort had been in an Orphanage during the Great Depression, and later World War II. But who knew what horrors Hadrian had faced in his short life.

He wouldn't be surprised if the young Potter had a need for revenge against all Muggles.

****1047****  
"They aren't here?" Lucius asked the shop assistant who looked slightly afraid of the concerned father. "How long ago did they leave?"

"No more than twenty minutes, Lord Malfoy," the girl said as she inched further behind a counter. "Your son and another boy…the Boy-Who-Lived, sir," she said in awe. "He was here, in me shop. Such a polite boy. They left hand in hand, they did."

"And where did they go?"

"To get the other things on their list, sir." Lucius nodded as he turned away from the girl. Severus and Lucius left the shop.

"Hand in hand?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Little early for our little Veela to be staking any claims, isn't it?" Lucius managed a small grin at that. Lucius' own Veela instincts had bound him to Severus while Lucius was in seventh year, about to graduate…and Severus had been in first. He hadn't told anyone (including Severus), choosing to woo Severus in private. That is, until Orion Black brought up an old contract between the Malfoy's and the Black's that had been made when Lucius was an infant by Abraxas. Unknown to Lucius or Voldemort, the young Malfoy was engaged to Narcissa, who was an old childhood friend. Out of duty and respect for his long dead father, Lucius agreed to it.

He never regretted it, after all when he'd married the first time, he'd been nineteen while Severus was twelve. He'd cared for Narcissa, and had genuinely grieved when she died giving birth to their beautiful son six years into their marriage. But then he'd finally given in to his Veela's longing and courted Severus not long thereafter. Severus often joked (after learning the truth about the Malfoy's creature heritage) that Draco would bond himself to the first pretty face he met.

Lucius always scoffed, but inwardly worried about the same. And so he kept his son's interactions down to that of Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe (two young wizards who had no chance of bonding to a Veela pureblood) and Pansy Parkinson (again, no chance). Of course, the first time he let his son go off and do his own shopping, he'd bond with "the first pretty face he met".

Well, Lucius supposed that Draco could to worse than the Boy-Who-Lived.

"The only thing Draco was yet to buy for Hogwarts were his books," Lucius said abruptly as he took off for Florish and Blotts, ignoring the chuckling of his lord in the back of his head, and his husband following close behind.


End file.
